flooding
The sun can’t be bothered to rise this morning. I’m sitting in a café in old town and a cold cup of hot coffee next to me is creating rings on the wood table. I’ve been writing. So much poetry. Sometimes it’s hard. Like trying to press water from a sponge that has already been…
Aging and the Oceans
We parked on a steep street in Oceanside. There was a fog in the sky and the sun had dipped into the horizon. The sky was now the hazy blue of twilight, the time of reflection. I could hear the ocean from the car, through the cracked windows; collapsing over itself and onto the beach.…
an exercise: out of the fire
There’s a bridge in the distance. On the other side of the river. I can see the legs of it create great European arches in the cliffs, shouldering the weight of thousands of cars – thousands of lives – as it sits, precariously deployed against the face of the mountain. The mountain itself is steep,…
This is me barfing all over your feed.
Hot steel is a steep contrast against the chilly spring sunset. Breaking speed laws helped me get out of the city in less than twenty minutes but it also overheated the capabilities of my 250cc engine. The dealership told me I wouldn’t hit a hundred so I’m always trying to prove them wrong. It’s a…
G. Z. Kieft 